Even More Conversations With My Mother

We had been out shopping and had stopped to grab some Chick-Fil-A. The dining rooms are still closed so I pulled over into an adjacent parking lot so we could eat. We were listening to Christmas music on the radio when Bing Crosby comes on singing, “White Christmas.”

No one whistles anymore.

Me: What?

He’s whistling. Listen. No one whistles anymore.

I did not even know what to say to that. It’s true. There is not a lot of whistling in today’s music. I think the last great whistling solo might have been “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” back in the 80s.

That’s my mom. Lamenting the lost art of whistling.

P.S. As I mentioned she’s down in Florida. A week or so ago she was out and listening to live music. She called to let me know that one of the performers whistled. She was very pleased. Told me she almost recorded it to send it to me.

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